


Sweet Dreams: Fourth Omake

by Reyanth



Series: Sweet Dreams [3]
Category: Tenipuri - Fandom, Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Loss of Virginity, M/M, Polygamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 17:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyanth/pseuds/Reyanth
Summary: Tezuka rescued Fuji from himself and joined the happy little menagerie of lovers surrounding the tensai but there's still a big hurdle the two of them need to surmount: Tezuka's virginity.





	Sweet Dreams: Fourth Omake

The Friday before Fuji was scheduled to return to school, Tezuka took the last period off to pick him up. After most of the students had cleared out, they entered the classroom where Mr. Morioka was praising a second-year student for a piece of extra-curricular writing he'd been asked to check. They were prepared to wait patiently but the teacher wrapped things up quickly when he saw them.

"Tezuka-san... Fuji-san. You look well."

If Mr. Morioka seemed nervous, it was understandable. He had plenty of reason to be wary.

Tezuka stepped aside to indicate that he was merely a bystander. "Fuji," he prompted.

Without hesitation, Fuji fell into a deep bow.

"Please forgive me," he said simply.

"Fuji-san... Of course." There was a slight smile to the teacher's lips for a moment—perhaps in appreciation of a wayward youth reformed—but then it fell and his features took on a sadness. "When I was informed... Fuji-san—Fuji-kun. I'm sorry for what you went through. The class has missed you very much. Kikumaru-kun in particular. We all look forward to your return."

Fear sparked in Fuji's eyes at the mention of his classmates. "Do they know?" he gasped. "Does everyone know?"

"No!" the teacher assured him. "Certain members of the faculty were informed according to procedure but to the rest of the school you were hospitalized after an accident." 

"I see." Calm returned to Fuji's eyes and he bowed once more. 

"Anyway, an extended absence due to injury is hardly anything new for the the tennis club," Mr. Morioka suggested, though the joke was tinged with a dab of concern for that very fact, which many considered rather odd to begin with.

"Thank you," Fuji said quietly, ignoring the attempted levity. "For-"

"I promised your captain here that I wouldn't say a word. Whether that was the right..."

Fuji shook his head, still bent over, and several tears fell to the ground with audible splashes, coaxing Mr. Morioka to silence.

"Thank you for what you did and said—what you didn't do. Thank you for listening to Tezuka and giving me a chance. Thank you for showing me I don't have to be what others make of me."

"I'm glad you are seeing things more positively, Fuji-kun. You can come to me if you need to. To talk. But I think you already have all the support you need."

Moving to Fuji's side, Tezuka bent into an equally steep bow. "I thank you as well."

The next stop was the tennis courts, where practice was already underway. That didn't stop Kikumaru from running out of a practice match and hurtling toward Fuji. Tezuka panicked at the mere thought of impact and stepped between them, catching a full-force acrobat missile to the chest.

"Fujiko!"

For another second, Kikumaru struggled. Then, he suddenly hid his face in Tezuka's restraining embrace. He went still.

Disturbed and at a loss, Tezuka shot an SOS to his vice captain who was approaching more sedately. Oishi clapped a hand to his partner's back, allowing Tezuka to disengage.

"I'm ok, Tezuka. I can handle a hug," Fuji quietly scolded.

"Not at that velocity," Tezuka retorted, adjusting his glasses and turning to address the remainder of the team. As he looked out at them, quiet descended. Raised rackets dropped limply to sides and motion came to a halt. "Some teams play only to win," Tezuka stated, projecting his voice across the courts. "But this team is more than that," he asserted. "We support each other. When one of us is hurt or struggling, we band together and divide the burden. That's the team I am proud to be captain of. That's the team I am glad to announce Fuji has returned to. Starting Monday, practice will resume as usual. Today, our tensai needs to rebuild his stamina, so we all run laps beside him. Go."

The unexpected turn wrung simultaneous groans from everyone, but a few looked thoughtful—Inui included. What better way to forestall questions and rumors than to keep everyone out of breath? If the whole team was united in disgruntlement toward Tezuka's logic, they would be distracted from speculation. Most importantly, they would be united in their hardship with Fuji sharing it right alongside them. Or so Inui theorized.

*

Meanwhile, while Inui's brain crunched the data like the advanced machine it was, Fuji had his hands full with a Kikumaru who was trying to snuggle right inside his shirt. He couldn't help laughing. It was just such cat-like behavior.

"I'm fine, Eiji. You know Tezuka. He's just being overly cautious." His arms tightened of their own volition and for a moment, he took solace in the warm bundle holding onto him for dear life. "I'm sorry I made you worry," he whispered. "I won't do that again. Tezuka will make sure of that."

"You're going to tell me everything!" Kikumaru announced with surprising anger, even with drops of moisture clinging to his lashes. He swiped at them. "The real story. Every detail."

"Eiji, I-"

"Come on. I'll help you stretch before we start running."

"Anything to delay running laps,"

"That... and I wanna see for myself if you're up to it."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then Tezuka had better look out!"

Laughing, Fuji followed his exuberant friend to a patch of grass where he could sit down and stretch out. One by one, the regulars passed by with words of welcome, congratulations on his recovery, and an inquiry or two. Soon, they were jogging by on another lap.

Fuji was stiffer than he had realized and grateful for Kikumaru's careful assistance, but soon Tezuka came along and sent the acrobat on his way, taking over. He crouched behind and pressed lightly on Fuji's back. "Take it easy," he murmured.

"I'm f-"

"Just be careful. I want you back in fighting condition without any setbacks,” Tezuka murmured, his hands sliding naturally to Fuji’s waist and lingering there innocently.

It was that innocence that bothered Fuji. When was Tezuka going to start taking him seriously? They weren’t children play-acting as a couple. Or were they? 

"I should have known it would be tennis that worried you,” he grunted, bringing his legs in so he could clamber to his feet.

Before he could, Tezuka applied a little more pressure to the hold on his hips and leaned a little closer to say under his breath, "And when you're back on track... I believe I owe you a coffee date.” He then got up himself and offered Fuji a hand, benevolently accepted. "Go on, then—and pace yourself."

*

During their long-awaited coffee date, Fuji found himself talking a great deal about his other relationships—telling Tezuka everything he had previously failed to. There were things Tezuka clearly didn’t really want to know. There were also things that he needed to, whether he liked it or not, so Fuji told him everything.

In turn, Tezuka talked about his feelings for Fuji—both those from before he really knew Fuji, and since that first shock in the classroom. He talked about his fear and confusion and the conviction that eventually brought them together. He talked about his hesitation in light of Atobe’s obvious and unexpected devotion. He talked about his realization that he was the right one for Fuji—the only sane and suitor, for one thing.

He also explained how he had come to accept both Atobe and even the more vicious Yukimura in the periphery. He didn't like it. He never would. But all Fuji needed was his acceptance.

No, it wasn't need. With or without that acceptance, Fuji would not leave his two prior lovers—he depended on them, and they even more on him. He wanted Tezuka's acceptance, and he was pitifully grateful for it.

"This isn't what I imagined us discussing," Tezuka said at last, with a quirk to his lips for his lost naivety. He tilted his tea cup (because apparently he was a health-concious green tea advocate even on a coffee date) and searched within it for the answer to some un-uttered question. If it had ever held any answers, it was empty now. He reached for the small pot by his left wrist.

"What did you imagine?" Fuji asked, identifying his chance to nudge their date toward it's next logical stage of evolution.

Tezuka turned a wider smirk on him, full of adorable self-deprecation. "Tennis, mostly," he confessed.

Fuji smirked back, suddenly struck by visions of Tezuka muttering dirty talk like, "You love it when I serve it hard, don't you?" and "Counter this thrust!" More likely, he would resort to pillow talk about coming matches and opponents as soon as they both lay panting in the afterglow. "Fuji! Yes! Fuji! Ahhh! ...What do you think? Could Oishi find a way to handle Sanada's FuuRinKaZan if they somehow clashed in a doubles match?"

So taken with the satirical fantasy was he that Fuji almost missed Tezuka's question.

"I don't really know what conversation on a date should entail. What would you like to talk about?"

Fuji's amusement turned warm and he felt a bit stupid and sappy when he gazed with moony eyes at Tezuka's handsome face and said, "Tennis, mostly."

*

A month later, Tezuka's parents were away at an onsen for the long weekend, but Tezuka remained at home, bound by his duty as team captain. He didn't seem to mind, although his nervousness at being alone in his house with Fuji was clear. No way was Fuji letting this opportunity slip. He was a shark and there was blood in the water.

"I know you think about it," he muttered, his lips a breath away from Tezuka's, his hands wound in the loose cotton of a predictably plain polo shirt.

"Of course I do," Tezuka agreed, barely hanging on to what threads remained of his composure. He neither wrapped his arms around Fuji in compliance nor disengaged in rejection. It was as if he thought the shark would back off if he simply stared it down.

Fuji did no such thing, but he was also determined to provoke Tezuka into making a move. "So what's holding you back?"

Now Tezuka wrapped one hand over both of Fuji's fists and gently removed his fingers from their tight clutch on his clothing. "I don't think it's in your best interests."

"You don't...!?" Fuji was so shocked, he was repelled away from his quarry, circling angrily until he faced Tezuka once more. He wished his eyes could spit sparks to properly convey what he thought of that excuse. "Tezuka... You know there's no hesitation, right? With Keigo and Seiichi?"

"I... I know."

"Then you know I'm already-"

"I don't want to treat you the same way they do." There was desperation in his eyes, but that wasn’t all.

Fuji’s heart broke just a little. Just a tiny little fracture at the pointy bit at the bottom. It was barely perceptible. "You don't have to," he promised, full of compassion in a strange twist of fate, because he could see that Tezuka was hurting for reasons he hadn’t even begun to anticipate. "You can be gentle-"

Tezuka shook his head. "That's not what I mean. It's just... It doesn't all have to be about sex,” he reasoned. "You have them for that. You don't need-"

"Do you have any idea how much I want you?”

The words were out before Fuji could reroute his brain.

Tezuka looked like a puppy who had finally caught his tail and couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t seem to disengage it from its source. "...Fuji?"

"I don't need to have sex with you. I get laid plenty as it is," Fuji said more heatedly than strictly necessary. "But I want to... Kunimitsu, I want to share that experience with you." Fuji closed in again, not touching his boyfriend but clearly projecting how much he desired to. "I want to learn what turns you on and how your body reacts to mine," he whispered, "and what noises you make when you're overwhelmed,” he breathed. "And I want you to know that about me, too," he finished, looking up into Tezuka’s eyes with all the vulnerability he dared project before his boyfriend got the urge to wrap him in plastic and store him on a shelf for safe-keeping.

"You will. Someday," Tezuka promised, somehow managing both to beg and to assert all at once. "It doesn't have to be today."

Fuji drew his trump card. "You're scared."

"Don't be ridiculous."

The shark's jaws gaped open, showing all those glistening, pointy, blood-stained teeth as sharp as needles. “No, you are. It's because of them, isn't it? They're experienced and they know all my buttons... You know you can’t compete with them in that department."

"It's not a competition," Tezuka responded in a strained tone that only gave the shark a thrill of pleasure in the hunt.

"Isn't it?" Fuji asked in a deceptively mild tone. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't think about how you can make me happier than they do…" Their bodies were so close he could feel Tezuka’s body heat and he craved it to warm his own cold-blooded skin and bones. "Tell me honestly that you don't want to make me feel things they can't; make me say things and make sounds they can't; make me moan longer, scream louder… Tell me, and mean it."

Tezuka was tense. Fuji could practically feel the minute vibration of his body as he tried to lock every muscle to prevent giving away anything. He was hard, too, just from Fuji’s provocative words. "You're right, but I don't know how," he rasped. "I won't hurt you or dominate you, and I don't know if anything less will be satisfactory enough to keep you with me. I don't have any skill, or-"

Fuji went in for the kill.

"You make me cum all the time."

"...What?"

"You don't have to do anything." The words were almost released on a moan. "It doesn't matter how well laid I am; when I sleep alone at night—even when I don't... I think about you." His body pressed up against Tezuka’s and his arms leisurely crawled about a trim waist, packed with muscle. "I remember how you looked and smelled the last time I saw you... I remember your posture when you serve or when you hit your special shots…" He gazed up at hazel eyes protected by a thin film of glass that made them sparkle prettily. "I think about the moment you take off your glasses before showering... and your naked ass in the shower for that matter…" Without conscious thought, he ground himself against Tezuka’s thigh, his own hip pressing into Tezuka’s significant erection in turn. "Just thinking about you, just looking at you and hearing your voice… You turn me on more than anybody else ever has done." He gasped, his eyelids shuttering, grinding harder against Tezuka and too desperate to admit to any sense of shame. "Why do you think I can keep up with multiple lovers to begin with?" he asked, his gaze burning into Tezuka’s once more. "Because I'm never satisfied. Because I'm surrounded by you day in day out and it drives me crazy. You're my libido personified."

They were straight up dry humping, now, Tezuka clutching Fuji as tightly as he was being held, and Fuji leaning back into that embrace so his crotch became the focal point of contact.

"I can't... live up to that,” Tezuka groaned.

Cracking his eyes open, Fuji straightened a little and released one arm from its desperate hold to touch his fingers to Tezuka’s cheek. “Breathe," he bid. "Speak to me—or don't, whatever you prefer. Touch me." He pressed a chaste kiss to Tezuka’s lips. "Fill me." Another peck. “Move." One last, little kiss. "That's all. That's all you need to do... and you know what?" Halting his hips, Fuji felt frozen in time, so close to the edge of orgasm his balls ached. He stared deep into Tezuka’s eyes and spoke the honest truth. "The thought of guiding you and seeing the look on your face when you're sheathed inside me for the first time... The thought of what it will do to you when you see me get off on your cock for the first time... Inexperience has it's own merits." He trembled. "Shit. I can't talk about this anymore. I'm already on the edge."

Tezuka licked his lips. “On the edge?"

Fuji took a deep breath, willing himself to hold just a little longer. "If you don't get it yet, then I'll show you how much I want you. It's not like it'll take long."

Pressing his body flush to Tezuka's, Fuji cupped in both hands a firm backside that exemplified the results of rigorous training. He crushed his groin more violently into Tezuka's thigh even as he crushed their lips together, and he began to rub and squirm.

The delicious scent of Tezuka's skin and breath made him dizzy. Tezuka's tongue tangled hesitantly with his, supplying a heady taste. The sound of Tezuka's nervous breath fluttered to his ears. His lashes brushed against glass and when he opened his eyes a sliver, he found Tezuka's staring right into them. The hard muscles that caressed his own, lither figure made him tingle and his nipples picked up sparks with every brief movement, while his crotch was in fact on fire. 

Just one more bump, one tiny shift of angle, and-

Moaning around Tezuka's tongue, Fuji came hard, panting open-mouthed as a globule of drool slipped down his chin. His face fell to Tezuka's shoulder and his hips continued to writhe until the orgasm abated.

"Please," he begged, whispering breathily into a solid shoulder. "No more delays or excuses. If you want me... there's nothing more to say. Take me."

"I want to, but... I-I don't... know how. One more day. To research and-"

"I swear to god I'm going to kill you if you don't start taking my clothes off," Fuji groaned. "I’ll teach you. I'll teach you everything."

Somewhere in the middle of that threat or the promise, Tezuka’s switch flipped. His ability to resist fizzled out and he gave himself over to the primal urge that has plagued man since the dawn of time. Without another word, he began plucking at the buttons of Fuji’s shirt even before he leaned down into a raw kiss of tongues and teeth. His fingers fumbled and trembled, slid and missed, but button by button, they achieved their goal until Tezuka’s hands slid over Fuji’s shoulders and down his arms together with slightly starch-stiff lilac cotton blend.

Freed of the sleeves, for a little while Fuji hung his arms about Tezuka’s neck and reveled in his triumph. For so long, he’d told himself he didn’t deserve Tezuka—and he’d believed it. Then Tezuka had dismantled that illusion and ever since, Fuji had been waiting… and waiting, and waiting… At last, there was no more resistance. At last, it was Tezuka’s hands, reaching for his flesh; Tezuka’s tongue engaging his own; Tezuka’s lips pressing and pushing; Tezuka’s knee nudging against his groin and encouraging it back to life...

It was what he’d always wanted—but for now, he would remain the aggressor for a little longer. He'd promised to teach Tezuka how to please him and he was eager to do so by example.

Less reluctantly than he expected, Fuji ducked out of the kiss, gazing fondly up at Tezuka as his knees bent and he descended to a kneel. He enjoyed the surprise and innocent hesitation in Tezuka's eyes. His old-fashioned inclination toward purity was utterly charming.

"Do you even masturbate?" he heard himself ask. He then delighted in the glorious blush that instantly rose to Tezuka's cheeks.

"Do you think about me?" he pressed.

Disappointment lurked as Tezuka shook his head, but misinterpretation became clear when he spoke. "There isn't anyone else." His tone might have been tender if he wasn't so tormented by embarrassment.

"Then there's nothing to be ashamed of," Fuji assured him. "Just relax."

There was some awkwardness as Fuji began to unfasten Tezuka's pants and the captain shifted stiffly as if to sit, then changed his mind. Fuji asserted guidance through his touch, bidding Tezuka to wait. When clothes were no longer a hinderance, his hands rested lightly on strong, stocky thighs.

"Do you want to sit down?" he invited.

"I don't..."

"Go on."

"I don't want to see you on your knees."

It was so natural a position to Fuji that he hadn't thought to continue any other way, but there they were, the specters of his various lovers, leering dangerously. 

He loved them for it. He wanted them even now. But this was Tezuka's time, Tezuka's moment. Fuji banished the others from his thoughts and felt more clear-headed and focused.

"You've fantasized about this," he stated matter-of-factly. "So how did you see it?"

Tezuka almost refused to answer. Pride tolled in his hesitation. Then, he reached down a hand and drew Fuji to his feet. 

"On my bed," he murmured. "Sitting against the headboard."

Taking the feedback to heart, Fuji avoided bending over Tezuka on hands and knees and lay on his stomach, belly to the sheets. It was an entirely knew position and he loved it instantly, watching Tezuka from under his lashes. Did he have any idea how erotic he looked from that angle? The entire length of his body was laid out for Fuji's appreciative perusal, his thighs sandwiching Fuji's slighter frame.

Tezuka put on a brave face to hide his embarrassment at being viewed naked and yearning. Meanwhile, Fuji had to confess to himself that he may have unfairly burdened his boyfriend with impossible expectations. His imagination would have had stoic, strong Tezuka hung like a giant. In reality, he was adorned with a length and girth appropriate to a growing teenage boy. Perhaps a little bigger than average, but smaller than Atobe. Not that Fuji was disappointed, just chagrined at his private sense of surprise. 

It was so easy to make a symbol of Tezuka. An exemplary specimen, an impeccable leader, a martyr... Everyone did it.

Fuji would have to remember to keep his eyes on the real Tezuka; to recognize and acknowledge his faults and to keep his merits in perspective. It was important for both of their sakes.

Best he get to exploring in detail the truths of Tezuka's body. Starting with the impressively hard and fully erect length bobbing in front of his nose.

Fuji was coy about it, knowing that an aggressive onslaught would bring about too quick an end to the activity. He licked and nibbled, suckled and kissed... All the while, Tezuka watched, flushed and breathless, and craning his neck needlessly, which he would certainly regret when his muscles eventually registered their protest.

When he came, it was with a monumental groan and a drastic arching that caused Fuji to wonder if his back might not also be in danger of straining. He’d always imagined Tezuka to find release quietly with little indication but a dash of sound and a shifting of eyes and expression. That was the intimate scene he often fantasized about. The reality was… gratifying. That he could wrest so much control from the stoic captain gave Fuji little tingles of happiness.

Witnessing Tezuka get off gave him other kinds of tingles, too. He crawled backward and sat up onto his knees, catching part of his lip in his teeth and releasing it slowly as he watched Tezuka breathe heavily, his face and chest flushed red.

"Let me be clear," Fuji broached, his voice huskier than he'd expected. "There is no happy end to this scenario in which we don't have sex right here and right now."

Tezuka said nothing. Instead, he inched toward Fuji, shifting onto his knees when he couldn't reach lying down. He eased his arms around Fuji's back and bent forward until their lips met. It was hard not to just snatch Tezuka's glasses and tossed them aside when they impeded the deepening of the kiss. Fuji took a calming breath and carefully reached up to take the frames away, staring expectantly into raw irises that were really very lovely viewed from a breath away. The glasses probably ended up on the window sill after that. Fuji couldn't remember, because all he was aware of from that point on was the tongue rubbing deliciously against his own and the suction, the sounds, the warmth...

When did Tezuka get so good at kissing?

It was pretty maddening when the captain broke the spell with a whispered, "What happens next?"

Fuji counseled himself to patience and painted on a smile. "Watch," he said.

He could have encouraged Tezuka to touch him some more, to play with his nipples or taste his skin, but that sort of thing would come naturally in time. Right now, he just wanted Tezuka inside of him, and that meant getting down to business.

He stripped right down, then leaned back and spread his legs, letting them frame his boyfriend. Lying back, he sucked on his fingers, getting them good and wet. Then, he lifted his backside and rubbed the wetness into his entrance.

Tezuka watched, enraptured, and when Fuji's fingers rubbed dry, he haltingly reached out to take Fuji's hand and licked and suckled to renew the moisture himself, then watched once more as a very pleased and turned-on Fuji started to finger himself. He secretly hoped that Tezuka would take over, but his boyfriend simply watched, enjoying the show.

"It would be better if we had an oil or cream, or... something... right?" asked a blushing Tezuka, all of a sudden. Fuji couldn't contain a predatory grin at the shy question. "I... I read..."

"It's fine like this," Fuji assured him, taking pity even though the grin kept popping back when he tried to banish it at the thought of Tezuka studying how to fuck him. "It's really just to make it easier for you to slide in, you know? You won't hurt me. I promise." There was no need to point out that Atobe was bigger or that Yukimura sometimes took him dry. He kept those facts to himself. "But if you want to make sure... you could always poke your tongue in there and wiggle it around a bit."

All he'd intended was to keep that adorable blush fresh across Tezuka's cheeks. On top of that high color, Tezuka looked as if he wanted to adjust his glasses and then realized he wasn't wearing them. Very slowly, eyes trained on Fuji's finger which was idly rubbing circles around his puckered hole, he leaned down.

"You don't have to!" Fuji assured him, not wanting to push his luck. They could work their way up to that kind of... "Ok, yeah, you do. Damn, that's hot," Fuji gasped, his hips wriggling involuntarily as Tezuka surged in and licked a rough, wet swipe over his entrance.

Lying down flat on his back, he stared determinedly up at the ceiling as Tezuka's tongue wormed inside of him, flicked lightly and explored, then delved deeper until a broken rhythm of thrusting developed. 

With Yukimura, the struggle for silence was all part of the game. With Atobe, every gasp and purr was a strategic ploy. He didn't want any such restrictions with Tezuka.

For the first time since he lost his virginity, Fuji let himself hum and shudder as he pleased. Before long, he was moaning and whimpering whenever Tezuka's nose bobbed against his balls.

He risked a glance once and almost blew his load at the sight of Tezuka's face buried in his ass. Their teammates would probably drop dead at the mere thought... 

Fuji nearly dropped dead trying to forget he looked.

"Stop!" he whimpered. "Stop."

He would explain in a moment, before Tezuka panicked. He just had to catch his breath and hold still for a little while.

But Tezuka didn't panic.

"Sorry, I got carried away," he said, still close but removing himself from any contact with Fuji.

"Don't move. Don't say anything. Just... give me a sec."

His only warning was one husky chuckle before his cock was spurting in Tezuka's mouth and his ass twitching around the first joint of an index finger. He swore as his muscles seized and pins and needles filled the void in his brain.

By the time he came down, Tezuka was leaning over him and kissing the tip of his nose. "It's ok. We don't have to have sex today. We can-"

"The hell we don't," Fuji growled, glaring up at his boyfriend. "You don't get it yet. I don't want you just whem I'm hard. You make me hard because I want you. I could do this all day—but I won't. You have to want me, too, or it will be just meaningless sex. Is any of this getting through to you?"

Tezuka's gaze took on an inordinate amount of caution. "Fuji... I'm not 100 percent sure... but I think you just said you love me."

Was that what he said? He tried to think back over his words but he couldn't remember what had come out of his mouth just moments ago. That wasn't the important question, though. There was a far more important issue at stake. "And how do you feel about that?"

A smile formed slowly and beautifully upon Tezuka's features. It was like watching the sunrise or the formation of a rainbow.

Leaning over Fuji, Tezuka seemed to go in for a kiss but he paused just short of any contact between their lips and said the most wonderful thing Fuji had ever heard.

"Like the world will end if I don't make love to you right now."

"At last, we have an accord," Fuji breathed. "And not a minute too soon."

"Enough talk," Tezuka whispered before he asserted control over Fuij's lips and tongue even as he arranged things to his preference. He rolled them both and pulled Fuij's right thigh up around his left hip, extending his arm beneath them both for balance. His tongue caressed and encouraged Fuji's while his hand rubbed gentle circles over Fuji's hip and backside, fingers occasionally straying up and down his crevice. By the time Tezuka let the kiss end, Fuji was panting and grinding against his thigh, already half-hard again.

He stared into Tezuka's eyes, which were staring calmly back into his own, wondering what he should say. Should he beg? Should he speak some romantic phrase? Should he gently encourage? Eventually, he decided to match Tezuka's silence with his own and tightened the grip of his thigh, rolling his hips to prove how ready he was.

Tezuka remained silent but his lips parted and a little gust of breath greeted Fuji's ears. Then he felt Tezuka's length push up against his backside and nestle between his cheeks. There was a little fumbling. After all, this was something Tezuka had only ever dreamed of before, but Fuji had dreamed of it, too, charming fumbling and all.

He took a slow, deep breath, letting Tezuka see him smile so there would be no cause for alarm. It was a jerky start and he couldn't resist a gasp as the head of Tezuka's cock passed through his entrance passage and drove deeper into him.

He must have closed his eyes because at some point he realized he couldn't see the look of wonder on Tezuka's face and he blinked furiously then widened them so as not to miss a thing. Tezuka was so handsome, especially when he looked just a little overwhelmed. There was no hesitation in his body, though, his hips moving instinctually with Fuji's breath and slighter motions. They were a perfect fit.

"I do love you," Fuji whispered.

Why now? Why were his walls crumbling and his defenses turning to dust in this moment? It was just sex. Sex with Tezuka, yes, but still just...

"I love you, too," Tezuka murmured in return, sliding his hand up Fuji's body to caress his face. 

He then exerted his weight, tipping them from their entwined, horizontal balancing act. He still held Fuji at a slight angle but now he was able to thrust deeper and piston his hips with more force. He buried his face in Fuji's neck and gave them both over to the pursuit of pure pleasure for a time.

A whining groan tore from Fuji's throat as his body seized and almost cramped, and he wrapped himself as tightly around Tezuka as he could, bracing for the coming spectacle. The moment he felt Tezuka jerk with an erratic spasm, a cry escaped him and he immediately followed his lover off the precipice and into the throes of ecstasy.

*

Very slowly and cautiously, Tezuka let the tension seep from his body. He eased his hold on Fuji, who he was sure he was part strangling, but didn't seek distance just yet. The closeness of their bodies was symbolic of something else and he wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

He was glad he had finally given in to the constant temptation and more than awed at the reality of just how powerful it was to be with someone he loved. Yet, the physical sensation was eclipsed by the joy in his heart to hear Fuji's earnest confession. He hadn't really quite believed it until he saw the raw, honest truth there in Fuji's eyes, and felt it in every fiber of skin and muscles sliding and pulsing in concert. 

For a moment he marveled that he was so lucky to have such a treasure in his arms. A second later, his heart constricted with the thought of how close he had come to losing that treasure. Atobe and Yukimura, even Kirihara and Saeki all flashed in turn through Tezuka's mind and he felt anger, jealousy, and even a sprig of hatred... but then Fuji giggled and all negativity was eradicated from him. He snuggled, sighed, and began to come down from the high of emotions that had coursed through him.

Whatever else anyone had with Fuji, Tezuka had love; pure and genuine. That was all that mattered.

"We should have coffee together more often," he suggested.

"Don't let your guard down. I hear it can be addictive," Fuji hummed insolently.

"There's only one way to find out."


End file.
